


A Boy Who, or Daffodils

by untamedshrew



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Chriseva, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 05:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11284446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untamedshrew/pseuds/untamedshrew
Summary: Eva makes a decision





	A Boy Who, or Daffodils

A boy who wants to spend time with her. It’s not something Eva can wrap her head around. A boy who wants to kiss her, a boy who wants to fuck her. These Eva is more than familiar with.

But a boy who wants to give her flowers, a boy who has dreams about her that are anything but wet, dreams that are soft and bright and hopeful? She doesn’t trust it. As far as she knows, she’s only ever been the stuff of nightmares.

Did this boy sing these same platitudes to Iben? Was he so unashamed and unafraid to brag about the love in his heart, as he pinned Ingrid to the wall in a neon stairwell, as he stumbled into a bedroom to find a black swan with tears trembling on her eyelashes, and saw an opportunity in her sadness?

And what about Caroline? The girl with rosy cheeks and pigtails he sacrificed for her in his sleep? Did he hold her hand on the playground while peeking up another girl’s skirt? If he was the same boy from nine to nineteen, why should he be any different at twenty?

Because at twenty he smiles without artifice, and does things for their own sake, instead of as a means to some self-serving end. At twenty, he kisses her with morning breath, and kisses her again when she tells him all she wants is sex and sleep and banter in between, even when he begs for meaning, begs for all the strings that can possibly be attached, begs to give her all the things she can’t possibly accept.

She can taste the word love on his tongue, but fears it’s only infatuation with poetic trappings. So, she keeps her heart closed, and her eyes alert.

He buys her flowers – in a purple vase instead of plastic wrap – and when she asks why, he says that they reminded him of her, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to say. Daffodils have never been her favorite, but she likes them better than she did before.

She doesn’t pick off the petals and ask the universe whether or not he really wants to be with her. No, she forgoes the cosmic intermediaries when she tells him she fucked Jonas last week, a test to see if he loves the girl of his dreams or the one he wakes up to most mornings.

“I don’t belong to you just because you want me,” she defends. The truth doesn’t assuage her guilt.

“Is it always going to be you and him?” he asks. He’s hurt, not angry or accusing. Eva is shocked to find his fragile heart exposed for her to see. “William says it’s always going to be him and Noora. Is it always going to be you and Jonas?”

“No!” she says, and as soon as the words leave her mouth she knows it’s true. “It just… happened.”

He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do you want from me, Eva?” he asks. “Just tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

When she doesn’t respond, he tells her he’ll let her think about it and leaves. She sees the corner of his mouth quirk up in a suppressed smile when he notices the daffodils in a vase on the windowsill.  
-  
“I’m scared.”

Eva’s sitting on the edge of Noora’s bed, a pillow clutched to her chest, trying to articulate her muddled thoughts to her love-addled friend. Noora seals the last of the cardboard boxes with masking tape and joins Eva on the bed. She’s moving back in with William, reentering the bubble of domestic bliss complete with new face towels and silverware.

“Fear can’t be the prime motivator in your life,” she says, wrestling the pillow away from Eva and taking her hand in hers.

“But what if it’s all a joke I’m too stupid to figure out?”

“Eva, you’re loyal, smart, and the most uninhibited person I’ve ever met. A boy who wants more than just your body isn’t a trick.”

Eva groans, resting her forehead on Noora’s shoulder. “But he was such a fuckboy.”

“People change! He graduated high school without clue about his future, his best friend left the country for almost a year, and he joined the military of all things, so of course he grew up. You’re not the same person you were when you guys first met, either.” Noora lifts Eva’s chin with her index finger. “Remember what Isak told you over Christmas? Life is now? I think you should follow his advice.”  
-  
She shows up at his house on Saturday, before Sana’s Eid party. It’s not prudent, but if she runs into his parents at least she’ll be fully clothed.

He answers the door, a smirk following his surprise. He looks a little afraid underneath his usual bravado.

“I want you to go down on me,” she says, dispensing with formalities, watching with satisfaction when his eyebrows shoot up. “And then I want you to take me to dinner.”

He grins. A girl who knows what she wants, a girl who wants him. Something not unfamiliar, but something he’s never been so happy about before.  
“Is that a yes?” he asks, lacing his fingers through hers and tugging her inside. 

She moves close enough so they’re standing chest to chest, and wraps her arms around his neck. “I’m still not your girlfriend, Chris” she says. “Yet.”  
-  
Epilogue:

Eva opens the thickest paperback she can find and lines the exposed pages with wax paper. She plucks a daffodil from its vase, sets it gently in the crease, shuts the book, and places it underneath a table leg. In five to seven days it will be completely pressed, and she’ll tack it above her bed. A talisman, something to root out nightmares, something to remind her of her worth.

She hears a knock at her window and smiles.


End file.
